There Goes My Baby
by Ikron21
Summary: Francis Kinkaid, an emotionally scarred war hero, saves the Courier, Robyn during the attack on Aaron Kimball. And after the victory at Hoover Dam, he joins her on the Courier and companies mission to track down the new Caesar, Vulpes Inculta. F/R
1. Chapter 1

A two headed bear. That is what Corporal Francis Kinkaid awoke to every morning. The NCR flag was draped directly above his bunk, as a way of reminding him who he served he supposed. Oliver's way of telling his subordinates _this _is what you will fight for in the coming weeks. Although by now, the New California Republic had grown distant and vague in his mind, not only in spirit but in mind. He had served two years as a medic in the Mojave wastes, treated more infections, sawed more bones, and dressed more scars for combatants mothers to cry over than he cared to remember. Francis was tired. But who wasn't? He had only a month left in his tour, but what a month it was shaping up to be. General Oliver told them just as they were drifting into sleep that Legate Lanius, the Monster of the East, was making his move soon as scouts had been spotted around the Dam, just in time for Kimball's visit the following midday.

They were all soldiers, and like soldiers on the front line, they dreamed of blood and violence, their buddies corpses lying in a heap, Caesar marching on Shady Sands while his Legionaries raped their girlfriends, wives, and daughters. Out of these nightmares came hope and incentive. Incentive to fight and sacrifice their very lives to prevent that. To tell Caesar and his Legate... "Don't Tread on the Bear"

Francis crawled out of bed and into the showers, ignoring all of his compatriots congratulations, praise, and well wishing. He leaned his head on the wall, and let the warm water run down his back. Although he was a Senator's son, the medal that President Aaron Kimball would pin to his chest was not the result of strings being pulled by a PR doctor back in his fathers re-election office. It was because of murder, slaughter at its finest. An utter bloodbath.

_Regret. Corruption. Lies. Ignorance. Murder... I shouldnt be getting this. Ray should, not me. Survivors guilt, whatever... its the truth. Damnation awaits me, and im going to be greeted by every man woman and child I slew in Quarry 11... I never want to hear that name again. Today I'll take that medal, and throw it into the Colorado. Then I'll put the barrel of my gun to my right temple, squeeze the trigger, and fall into the river. In a matter of days I'll be joined by every casualty thrown over the side of the Hoover Dam. Who knows maybe Oliver himself will be there... _Francis tried his best to shut out these thoughts. The NCR bear blood in him claimed he was a hero. But the man, the human, the truth said he was a monster. A Demon in combat armor.

He left the showers before anyone came in, put on his dress browns, and took the elevator to the surface, his fathers pearl grip 357. Magnum in his holster.


	2. Chapter 2

The President was due to arrive within the hour, and knowing the Vertibird pilots, a half hour. Kinkaid took a look around. It wasnt often that he was on the surface of the Dam itself. He was most often in the medical bay with Dr. Veronique or on combat excursion to deal with nearby raiders nesting in the hills or hunting for Legionaries.

There was the stage for the President, draped with an NCR banner and the podium with the two headed bear seal of the President's office. Several rangers were patrolling the perimeter, their faces set like a stone statue. The part that bothered most people was that you couldnt tell what they were looking at behind those authority glasses. It struck a strange nerve within people that made them insecure. The rangers probably relished this, as it meant the common foot soldier wouldn't dare question their position as top dog. Some troops and brass were gathered behind a waist high barrier. There was Donaghue, Mathews, Longbaugh, Fitzpatrick... All friends and countrymen. Francis laughed at the irony of the quote.

He turned around, and felt an icy chill run through slither through his spinal cord.

Francis knew what type of power armor that was. Enclave. Remnants of an old world tyrannical government. His father had told him tales of when he was im the army, and came face to face with these brutes in Navarro. They were monsters, boogeymen for children. And yet this one was walking side by side with Ranger Grant, the head of security for Kimball's visit.

They were in deep conversation, pointing at various locations around the platform. The man in the power armor was trailed by a man wearing a first recon beret and two women. One of whom was a little red faced from an apparent night of drinking and the other was chatting nonstop with the man, who was to busy scouting the various places and areas pointed out by Grant. Kinkaid was embarrassed, as if everyone had seen him gaze in fear at the monstrous power suit. But he was also embarrassed that his childhood boogeyman had come back to haunt him, and he hadnt grown up about it. There was no Enclave. If anything that person was just a third party mercenary brought in by Colonel Moore for added security. Nothing more.

Francis heard what sounded like Vertibird wings and turned away from the group to look into the sky. And sure enough was Bear Force One, the President's dedicated Vertibird. It swooped down atop the visitor center landing pad, and the bay doors opened. First came the imposing Veteran Rangers, 10, maybe 15 in all. They took positions around the stage and the roadside. He even spotted one on the tower opposite the stage. And after everything had been checked and double checked, President Aaron Kimball stepped off the Vertibird. He shook hands with Moore, then waved at the crowds and made his way to the stage. Kinkaid was already there, posistioned behind the podium and at attention. Kimball began his speech, but Kinkaid was to busy trying to pick out the power armor man, the first recon beret, the cowboy hat, and the hooded girl in the crowd. The beret was on the cliffside, scoped rifle surveying the area. Hooded girl was leaning on the barrier, whispering to cowgirl, but no power armor in sight. Francis thought that odd considering that bulky power armor isnt exactly inconspicuous when he realized his commander in chief was standing right in front of him. Kinkaid snapped to a salute, and stood stock still as Kimball pinned the Bear Pendant "for bravery and going beyond the call of duty" on his right chest, along with a Silver Torch for "Excellence in medical assistance in the line of fire" Kimball shook his hand when he put him at ease. "Hows it feel to be a hero son?"

Kinkaid wanted to say _Awful. Like seeing a little girl riddled with bulletholes_. "Great sir. I've done my family proud."

At this the President put on a grin and slyly added "Youll make sure your dads got his district in my sway for re-election alright?" then he leaned forward and whispered "Theres a spot on my ticket for him. Daddys of war heroes and gentlemen appeal to the gentry. You be good and tell him so, ya here? " Kimball pulled back and winked then moved onto the next in line.

Kinkaid didn't put much thought into it. Lawrence Kinkaid Sr. was a potential candidate himself for the office, and Kimball probably wanted to kick out the competition. But Francis didnt ruminate on that too much. What would it matter if dad was Vice President? The only thing that Francis would get would be the massive and densely populated state of Maxson. Senators often passed position from father to son, so it would go to Francis. He would retire to the compound and make speeches and balance budgets and meet in Shady Sands for hearings and votes. It was more Lawrence Jr, his brothers, bag. He had the type of face and personality that could and frequently did charm the pants off of women. Why couldn't he use it to charm votes out of the people or money out of their pockets? But no he was a rapscallion and a fool in his fathers eyes. Now that Francis was the war hero, he was the favorite son of Maxson.

Kimball returned to the podium to say farewell when four shots rang out.

Francis instinctively hit the floor, along with all the other soldiers, but Kimball's had grown weak with age. He stood dumbfounded until out of nowhere a spear pierced his left shoulder, tearing through muscle and bone till it hit the stage with a thunk. He let out an ugly cry of pain, and was attended to by the nearby Vets. Kinkaid grabbed his gun and clutched it like a child might hold a teddy bear during a storm. He started taking aim at Legionaries flooding the area from beyond the ridge, and fired, killing three more weilding machetes and spears making a suicide missions. Four Vets lay dead by the barricade, one for each shot. Cowgirl was by the visitors center aiding the efforts from afar, while hooded girl was down in the grit, punching the Centurions with a displacer glove and sending the head rocketing from the neck in a gory spray of blood and bones. Beret was taking the flood from behind and remained on the ridge. Moore was getting her moneys worth so far.

Kinkaid rushed to the Presidents side, and tried to pull out the spear, which allowed the Vets to help the others put down the onslaught. From a medical point of view it was ugly. The spear wasnt just stuck in his shoulder, it was lodged. The joint was crushed and shattered into bits and pieces, so the arm was lost and dangling. But aesthetically it was a mess of blood and muscle peppered with bits of bone.

He yanked and pulled but to no avail. Kimball had passed out from pain and sheer terror, and was sure to be killed if Francis didnt move him, and soon. He was befallen with a sense of dread when he looked up and saw the man with the flame thrower.

He was dressed in a leather vest and wore dark sunglasses, and was balding, but he didnt take note of that until later. His smile was one of sadism and hatred. He was evil incarnate, a demon sent to walk the earth and strike fear into the hearts of man. And as he looked into Kinkaid's eyes and saw his sheer terror, he let out a laugh, shot out a jet of incinerating flame.

It was only on for five seconds. Five seconds time, and half of Kimball's face was burnt to a crisp. He had re awoken, and let out another ghastly wail. Fell backwards at the force of the heat, but looked up to see the man in the power armor crush the legs of flame weilding maniac with an oversised hammer. The flame spurts stopped, but Aaron's face was still alight. Francis threw off his coat and snuffed out the flame, but looked away in horror at what remained of the President's face. Gray and ashen, seared on the leftt side. The shaft of the spear had been weakened by the flame, and was easily broken away by the power suits glove. He cradled Kimball in his arms, then carried him inside the visitors center. He was still wrapped in Kinkaid's suit jacket.

Every Legionary had been slayed. Along with the Centurions and Scouts, and even a Vexillarius. All three of the mans friends had followed him, and soon the only person left on the stage was Francis. He was grimy, bloodstained, and he had slight burns on his hands from when he held the spear. But he felt alive. He wanted to celebrate, and felt happy. Not happy that the President may be dieing, or the 10 losses for the NCR. But for the 50 or so Legion scum blood that was leaking into the soil. Fertilization for the NCR seeds that were to be sewn. And then he remembered the fiend who tried to kill his commander in chief, and in a short patriotic fervor, he went looking for his corpse. He found the flamethrower, but no demon. He checked over the side of the Dam, and could swear he could see a small boat on the horizon. But he turned back and ran off to the med bay. Now was the time he earned his pendant.


End file.
